W.T. Melon

MOUTH MOTHS, MORE CLASSROOM STORIES

2006-09-01T14:05:00.000-07:00

Book released! In stores now! Go grab it! Read about Mouth Moths, Spot, and Anta Claus! Learn what could happen if you take cuts too often in line! And who is Sub Dude! Read all about it here!

Vacation

2006-06-30T14:08:00.000-07:00

Wonderful Ones,

It's time to close up the school for the summer. All the students have left the classroom @ the end of the hall. The desk are clean and all the left over sweaters and lunchboxes are int he Lost and Found. The hallway is too quiet and nothing is lonelier than an empty playground. I'm off on vacation to Apple Island. I'll see you all in the fall.

All the best, Walter Teach Melon

2ndGraders #33

2006-06-29T14:15:00.000-07:00

WT Melon Alphabet: Z

2006-06-28T14:14:00.000-07:00

Z is for Zig-Zag: This is the form of the line that formed when the thrid-graders lined up for recess in the classroom at the end of the hall. A zig-zag line was best for Kimberly to take cuts.

Andrew

2006-06-27T14:18:00.000-07:00

Andrew liked to doodle. He doodled so much during math that he rarely got his math work done on time. Read more about Adrew and Dilly-Dally the Doodles in the book MATH RASHES AND MORE CLASSROOM TALES.

Bradley's Odyssey Chapter Fourteen

2006-06-26T14:17:00.000-07:00

Chapter Fourteen

The Sub

By now the Three-R’s had stomped off to lunch. This gave Bradley time to sit on a giant rubber eraser and think.
“I know where to find the Thinking Cap,” he told himself. “But how am I going to get off this island?”
The answer, he realized, was at the seat of his pants.
“The erasers!” he said. “When I dropped one into the fish tank at school, it floated. There are enough rubber erasers on this beach to build a boat.”
He went to work. First, he pushed five erasers side by side. Then he retrieved the yellow log he had sat upon earlier, now realizing it was a giant pencil.
“The perfect mast for my boat,” he said. “Next I need a sail.”
After a moment of thought, he remembered the striped, white area he had crossed before reaching the blackwall. “That wasn’t a football field,” he said. “That was a piece of Writing’s notebook paper.”
Ripping out a triangular sail from the paper was easy, but fastening it to the pencil mast proved a problem. Again Bradley searched the carpet and found what he needed. Wrapped around a desk leg was a strip of masking tape. Not only was the tape useful in attaching the sail, but also in holding the erasers together.
After much lifting and pushing, Bradley stood the pencil mast upright. He rammed the point into the middle eraser. Finally, he stuck a king-size paper clip into the stern to serve as a rudder, and the boat was complete.
Bradley stood back to admire his craft. “Erasers, a pencil, paper, and a paper clip,” he said. “I’ll call my new boat the USS Odyssey. USS stands for used school supplies.”
He pushed the boat into the water. It floated, high and steady. As he climbed aboard, a gust of wind filled the paper sail and whisked the boat out to sea.
“Farewell, Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic,” Bradley called out. “So long, Show and Tell. The Thinking Cap Hunt can now continue.”
The afternoon was ideal for sailing, the sea calm, and the breeze stiff and warm. Several hours after leaving the Island of Three R’s, Bradley spotted another island. This one was peanut-shaped with a single mountain in the center. An assortment of colors ran down the mountain’s tiered slopes. It reminded Bradley of an ice cream sundae dripping with chocolate, strawberry, and pineapple toppings
“Apple Island!” he exclaimed. “And Chalk Mountain is still covered with paint from the volcano I created.”
As he sailed by the island where all teachers came from, Bradley spied an object sticking out of the water. An L-shaped pipe with a lens on the end shot past his bow. It turned right, left, then cut straight toward the boat, growing taller as it came.
The next thing Bradley knew a small, iron submarine surfaced nearby. A hatch on top opened, and up popped a man wearing a brown suit, white shirt, and red bow tie. He had short-cropped hair and a thin mustache.
Standing in the hatchway, the man snapped to attention. “Right-o,” he said. “Thought I spotted a vessel through my periscope. Good day, old chap. Are you ill?”
“Um, no,” Bradley answered.
“Perhaps you’re heading to a teachers’ workshop or you need a “mental” days off?” the man asked.
“Uh, no and no,” said Bradley.
“Then you have no need of a sub,” said the man crisply.
“You mean a submarine?” asked Bradley. “No, the U.S. Odyssey is all I need.”
“I mean a submarine, old chap,” said the man, giving a swift salute. “For that’s what I am, a sublime substitute at your service.”
“A sub in a sub?” said Bradley.
“Right-o, and I’m sailing home to Sub Isle after a grueling day in a classroom,” said the man. “My, how those fifth-graders tested me. Noisy, fidgety, and constantly out of their seats I’m afraid. But we substitutes have a motto: Rub a dub-dub, you can’t sink a sub, and by lunchtime I do believe I had control of the class.”
Bradley nodded, remembering some rough days his class had given substitutes. “So substitutes come from an island as teachers do?” he asked.
“That’s where I was this morning waiting for The Call,” said the sub. “When a substitute gets The Call, he must be ready for duty.”
Bradley leaned against the pencil mast of the U.S.S. Odyssey. “So what did you do when The Call came?” he asked.
“I subsided into my submarine and submerged,” said the substitute. “I sailed to the nearest substation, and rode the subway out to the suburbs prepared to teach all subjects from subtraction to subatomic particles.”
Bradley shook his head. “Well that could become a problem from now on,” he said. “If I don’t find the Thinking Cap, substitutes won’t have any classrooms to be called to. The crabby teachers have stolen it.”
The substitute’s mustache twitched. “What? The Thinking Cap is missing?” he exclaimed. “Bit of bad luck that, old chap. No wonder classes have been restless lately. No wonder it’s been impossible to teach children anything.”
Bradley looked toward Apple Island, still off the port side. “Do you know where the crabby teachers are now?” he asked. “Apple Island looks deserted.”
“After Chalk Mountain blew, they scattered in all directions,” the substitute explained. “I haven’t seen a crabby teacher in a classroom since then. But now, with the theft of the Thinking Cap, they’re bound to show up. I should get back to Sub Isle straight away, old chap. Tomorrow, if I get The Call, I want to be ready for the worst. Cheerio.”
With that, the man disappeared down the hatch. The door closed, and the sub slowly submerged. Soon Bradley was alone again on the grape-dark sea.

Apple Island Japanese Version

2006-06-25T14:13:00.000-07:00

Here's the Japanese conver of Apple Island or the Truth About Teachers. I wonder if children in Japan are enjoying this spoof about the orgins of teachers. Read the English version of APPLE ISLAND, OR THE TRUTH ABOUT TEACHERS

WT Melon Alphabet: Y

2006-06-24T14:12:00.000-07:00

Y is for "You're It!": What Hannah said while playing freeze tag. Unfortuneately, when she did touch a classmate and said these words, the person she tagged really did freeze. Read more about Hannah and her frozen touch in the book Mouth Moths, More Classroom Tales.

2ndGraders #32

2006-06-23T14:10:00.000-07:00

WT Melon Alphabet: X

2006-06-22T14:09:00.000-07:00

X is for X Marks the Spot: One of the many jokes Spot made when he appeared on Myra's desk during Writers' Workshop.

Roger

2006-06-21T14:10:00.000-07:00

Roger was the clas pain-in-the-neck. The tall teacher often sent him outside to "clean erasers". This all changed when Roger clapped two erasers together and the Chalk Dust Genie appeared to grant him three wishes.

WT Melon Alphabet: W

2006-06-20T14:07:00.000-07:00

W is for Walter Teach Melon: A teacher from Apple Island who lives above the classroom at the end of the hall and is said to have mysterious powers.

2ndGraders #32

2006-06-19T13:10:00.000-07:00

Gone High Tech

2006-06-18T13:09:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed, teacher,
I am not in school today.
The cassette deck on my desk,
Will record each word you say.

Switch on my video cam,
When you have something to show,
And if you pass out homework,
Find my fax number below.

I’ve a pager and cell phone,
So I won’t be hard to reach.
Since I don’t need to be in class,
I’ll do lessons at the beach.

Messy Desk Pest

2006-06-17T13:09:00.000-07:00

I bet your teacher often pesters you to keep your desk clean. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever heard of the Messy Desk Pest. Read more about this pesky creature in the book Classroom At the End of the Hall.

Shrug

2006-06-16T11:03:00.000-07:00

If you’re in trouble and have no excuse.
Shrug.
If you know that fibbing would be no use.
Shrug.

If your book report is long overdue.
Shrug.
If you have no clue what teachers ask you.
Shrug.

If you forgot to study for the test.
Shrug.
If you think not answering would be best.
Shrug.

So forget your fears.
Why bother with tears?
It has worked for years.
Raise shoulders to ears,
And shrug.

Bradley's Odyssey Chapter Thirteen

2006-06-15T10:58:00.000-07:00

Chapter Thirteen

Show and Tell

Bradley leaped over a ten-foot long, blue crayon. He ran past a tall, paper sculpture (perhaps a wad of Writing’s paper) and caught his breath behind a desk leg. At that moment, another bell rang.
“Time for Show and Tell,” Reading called out.
“Awww! But the little-bitty boy got out of the jar,” said Writing. “Now we have nothing to bring.”
“So I’ll do times problems on the blackwall,” said Arithmetic.
“And I’ll read my book Fun With X-Rays,” said Reading.
“And I’ll write rows of cursive X’s,” said Writing.
From where he stood, Bradley could see the beach and the ocean beyond. The tide ebbed swiftly, exposing a large rock close to shore. As more and more of the dark slab came into view, Bradley made out a familiar shape.
“A rocking chair,” he exclaimed. “It’s a rock rocking chair.”
Seaweed dangled from the chair’s arms and rockers. Barnacles and starfish adorned the back and legs. But Bradley’s attention was drawn to the seat, where two hideous creatures sat.
Both had large flabby bodies, like sumo wrestlers, draped in white robes. Both had bare bellies that hung over their folded legs and round bald heads that gleamed in the morning sun. One had large eyes, round and shiny like CD’s, but no ears. The other had ears the size of dinner plates, but no eyes.
The creature with eyes spoke first. “Welcome to Show and Tell Time. I’m Show and by my side is Tell. Will all presenters present for today’s program please step forward. When making your presentation stand up straight and do not sway. Present your presentation in a loud, clear voice. Avoid saying um, ah, and you know.”
At this point, the creature reached to his mouth and pulled out a slender, slimy tongue. He handed the slug-like thing to Tell, who inserted it between his lips like a cherry Popsicle.
“Oh, ick,” said Bradley, realizing what he had just witnessed.
“You will have two minutes to show or tell us something,” Tell said. “If we find it interesting, we will show or tell you anything you request. But if you bore us, you will be severely punished. Now who wants to go first?”
Bradley stepped onto the beach. Surely he wanted to find the Thinking Cap, but what interesting thing did he have to show or tell? He searched his backpack and pulled out a picture he had drawn recently.
“Um, hello, my name is Bradley Zimmerman, and ah, I brought something to show,” he said. “You see, yesterday I spotted a turtle by the lake. This morning during math, I drew this picture of it.”
Show clicked his fingers, and Tell handed him back the tongue. The moment he rammed it into his mouth, out came one word like a foghorn. “Bo-o-o-o-oring!”
Bradley turned hot and red.
“You call that interesting, Bradley Zimmerman,” Show said. “That’s a scribble compared to the masterpieces others have shown me. Why, a few centuries ago a man named Leonardo Da Vinci showed a picture of a smiling lady named Mona something or other. Now that was interesting. As a punishment for boring us, you will remain in the Coat Closet of Doom for one millennium.”
Bradley thought quickly. “But I also have something to tell,” he said. “Last week during recess, I found a trail of ants on the playground. I followed it from the swing set to the slide. Every ant was carrying a leaf at least five times its size.”
The tongue returned to Tell. “Bo-o-o-o-oring!” he bellowed. “Who cares, Bradley Zimmerman? Others have told me about walking on the moon, writing great books, and climbing high mountains. As a punishment for boring us again, you will sit in the Time Out Chair of Terror for two millenniums.”
Bradley looked at his feet. Nothing I’ve ever done will interest these creatures, he thought. But as he peered downward, an idea flashed in his brain. Quickly, he stooped and scooped something off the ground.
He stood, holding the prize out, squeezed tightly in his fist. “Here is one of the most interesting items on earth,” he announced.
Tell turned an ear toward Bradley. Show’s eyes grew wider.
“With these tiny objects in my hand, humans have made some of their most useful things--glass for windows and processing chips for computers.”
The rock rocking chair rocked swiftly back and forth.
“Tell us what it is, Bradley Zimmerman,” said Tell. “I’ve never heard of anything so interesting.”
“Humans use this for making concrete to build roads and cement to erect buildings,” Bradley went on. “They even pour it into boxes for children to play in.
The tongue returned to Show. “Show me, Bradley Zimmerman,” he said. “I can’t see it from here.”
“I’ll bring it closer,” said Bradley. “But first let me whisper its name into Tell’s ear.”
Bradley stepped up to the rock rocking chair. He leaned toward Tell’s big right ear and whispered, “Sand.”
A frown crossed Tell’s tongueless mouth. He clicked his fingers. The instant Show passed him the tongue, Bradley snatched it from his hand and backed away.
The thing wriggled in Bradley’s grip like a fish. “Oh, ick,” he repeated. “My teacher tells me to hold my tongue, but I never thought I’d be holding someone else’s.”
Show and Tell rocked in a fury. They shook their fists in the air.
Bradley held up the tongue. “What’s the matter, Show and Tell?” he said. “A boring cat got your tongue?
The creatures, unable to speak, motioned with their hands, begging for the tongue’s return.
“Now this is interesting,” said Bradley. “What good are Show and Tell without a tongue? So here’s the bargain. Tell me where to find the Thinking Cap, and I’ll return this to you. If not, I’ll drop it into the sea. A slip of the tongue, you could call it.”
The creatures nodded in unison.
Bradley handed the tongue to Show, who quickly inserted it into his mouth. “That was what I call an interesting trick, Bradley Zimmerman,” he said. “The Thinking Cap is hidden on an island, two days journey northeast of here.”
Tell retrieved the tongue. “But be warned, Bradley Zimmerman,” he said. “The Thinking Cap is guarded by the crankiest monster that has ever dwelled on Earth. This beast is nastier than the nine-headed Hydra slain by Hercules, meaner than snake-haired Medusa killed by Perseus. Bradley Zimmerman, the Thinking Cap is guarded by a giant, slimy worm called the Great Pedagog.”
“A giant worm?” said Bradley. “But I hate worms. How can I get the Thinking Cap with a monstrous worm in the way?”
In the meantime, the tide had risen as rapidly as it fell. The rocking chair legs were already underwater. Now the seat disappeared as well.
“Show, show me! Tell, tell me!” Bradley called out. “How can I get past the Great Pedagog?”
“That’s all for now,” Tell said, as his body submerged. The tongue went to Show. “Next Show and Tell Time, next week, same time, same place,” he said, before his head went underwater.
Soon the entire the rock rocking chair had vanished beneath the ocean.

Author! Author7!

2006-06-14T10:57:00.000-07:00

Classroom Observation 13:

2006-06-13T10:57:00.000-07:00

"If the teacher blows a bubble in class, there's a 99% chance that someone will swipe at it."

2ndGraders #31

2006-06-10T10:53:00.000-07:00

Last Day

2006-06-09T10:49:00.000-07:00

Rah! Rah! Sis-boom-bah!
Hip! Hip! Hip! Hooray!
Ta-daaa! Ooo-la-laaa!
At last, the last day!

Va-va-voom! I’m free!
Adios! Hear! Hear!
Whoopee! Yessiree!
So long, long school year!

Welcome to summer.
Lazy days adored,
But what a bummer.
Already I’m bored.

Zack

2006-06-08T10:49:00.000-07:00

Zack couldn't stay in his seat. However, when his old wooden chair started to toss him off like a bucking bronco, Zack was determined to not leave seat seat again.

Bradley's Odyssey Chapter Twelve

2006-06-07T10:46:00.000-07:00

Chapter Twelve
The Three R’s

Squawking seagulls woke Bradley the next morning. For the first time, he was able to inspect the rectangular, pink log that his head had rested upon all night. Similar logs lay on the sand around him.
“They look like pencil erasers,” he said. “They feel and smell like pencil erasers. But who would ever need an eraser this big?”
Beyond the beach stretched a wide, flat plain. Here and there, trees with square trunks rose straight upward. Bradley stepped across stiff, brown grass and stopped below the first trunk. High above him, the treetops appeared as a dark rectangle against the sky.
“Strangest trees I’ve ever seen,” he said. “And this grass reminds me of the carpet in first-grade that gave me rug burns during story time.”
Farther on, Bradley walked over a white area crossed with blue lines. Along the sidelines were three holes. “A football field?” he guessed “But what could those holes be for?”
After passing more square-trunked trees, a tall, rock wall blocked his way. He sat down on a yellow log. Sticking out of the wall, high over his head, was a long, narrow ledge.
“From up there I could see over the trees,” he concluded. “Then I could see what’s on the rest of the island.”
He began to climb. His sneakers found shallow footholds in the rough surface. After nearly an hour, he rolled onto the ledge. White dust covered him. The wall continued far above him, black and criss-crossed with white lines.
Dusting off his arms and legs, Bradley stood. He looked out over the flat, rectangular treetops. “Something is strangely familiar about this place,” he said. “Even the smell reminds me of something.”
As he spoke a distant bell rang. “Time for work,” boomed a voice, and suddenly something immense blocked Bradley’s view.
Bradley backed up against the black wall. “Ei-ei-ei!” he stammered.
He was staring into an enormous blue eye with long eyelashes. The eye was set smack in middle of a giant forehead of a giant face of a giant woman with long, blond hair.
“A Cyclops!” Bradley said breathlessly.
The woman blinked her single eye. The eyeball moved back and forth, back and forth.
“Awwww,” she said. “A little-bitty boy is standing on our chalk tray. And he’s wearing little-bitty pants and a little-bitty shirt. And look at that little-bitty backpack. Isn’t he cute?”
Before Bradley could find his voice, two more Cyclopes appeared. A red-haired woman stood on the right and a black-haired one on the left.
The three Cyclopes exchanged one-eyed glances.
“Writing, that’s not a boy. It’s a dung beetle,” said the redhead. “An ordinary, creepy dung beetle.”
The black-haired Cyclops raised an eyebrow. “No, Writing is right,” she said. “Put on your glasses, Reading. That is a boy. So let’s squash him, and get back to work. It’s my turn to use the blackwall.”
The blond Cyclops, who the others called Writing, shook her head. “Arithmetic, you’re not going to touch that little-bitty boy. I want to take him to Show and Tell.”
Red-headed Reading put on eyeglasses with a single lens. “Too bad he is a boy,” she said. “Show and Tell would find him more interesting if he were a dung beetle.”
“Let’s stick a pin through him and mount him on cardboard anyway,” said Arithmetic.
“No, I’m going to keep the boy on my desk,” said Writing. “I want to watch him run and jump and do other little-bitty boy things.”
With an enormous thumb and forefinger, the blond Cyclops plucked Bradley off the ledge. Kicking and twisting, he sailed through the air. From this viewpoint he saw that what he had called trees were actually three giant desks, and the wall was a blackboard complete with a dusty chalk tray.
Writing dropped Bradley into a glass jar on the middle desk and sat down. Reading sat on the right and Arithmetic on the left. All three Cyclops leaned forward to inspect Bradley. They tapped on the jar and made goofy faces.
Bradley looked through the glass and shivered. “This is like sitting in the front row at the world’s scariest movie,” he told himself. “For years I studied the Three-R’s at school. Now they’re studying me.”
He stood and ran his fingers through his hair. After drawing a deep breath, he said, “Greetings, Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic. My name is Bradley and it’s a privilege to meet you. You are very popular in my classroom.”
The three eyes brightened.
“Are we?” said Reading.
“We are?” said Writing.
“Are you sure about that?” said Arithmetic.
“Yes, my class studies each of you an hour every day,” said Bradley. “No one ever complains.”
The three Cyclopes smiled, showing well-polished teeth.
Reading adjusted her one-lens glasses. “Bradley, did you know I’m the R who designed every one of the twenty-six letters you study in school. Lately, I’ve spent time at the blackwall designing new ones. Wouldn’t one hundred letters be wonderful? With new letters, there can be more words, sentences, paragraphs, pages, and books for children to read.”
Bradley screwed up his face. “But that’s silly,” he said. “New letters wouldn’t make books any better. Books need to be scary, funny or exciting for kids to like them.”
Reading’s three-foot eyebrow crept up her forehead. At her side, Arithmetic and Writing sniggered.
Arithmetic’s lips, smeared with glossy red lipstick, spread wide. “Well, Bradley, I’m the R who designed the numerals 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 and 0?” she said. “As I’m sure you know, you can switch my numerals around and make any number possible. Now I’m redesigning all ten of them. My trendy new number line will come out this fall. Won’t it be fun to do pages of math problems with more stylish numbers?”
Bradley thought a moment before saying, “I don’t know about that. Numbers, no matter how they look, are boring if you just add, subtract, multiply, or divide rows and rows of them.”
Arithmetic frowned. Her massive forehead wrinkled.
Writing winked at Bradley. “Right you are, little-bitty boy,” she said. “Reading and arithmetic can be dull. But writing is always exciting, especially if you sprinkle in lots of the punctuation marks I designed. I get my ideas from watching the moon. The more dots, curls, and squiggles a writer sticks in a story, the prettier it looks.”
Bradley wanted to comment on how silly needless punctuation was, but he saw three globe-size eyeballs glaring at him. He had to find a way out of that jar before the giants got any angrier. An idea came to him when Writing bent over, revealing the label on her shirt. It read: SIZE XXXXXL.
“You know, Writing,” Bradley said. “I learned a brand new punctuation mark. It’s one Alphabetty can’t even make with the moon. My mother writes rows of them on the bottom of letters she sends to me at camp. Go to the blackwall, and I’ll tell you how to write it.”
Writing batted her eyelid. “Excellent,” she said. She rose and stepped to the black wall. From the chalk tray, she picked up a piece of chalk the size of a fire extinguisher.
“First draw a line from the upper right hand corner to the lower left hand corner,” Bradley instructed. “The next line goes from the upper left hand corner to the lower right one.”
After the Cyclops drew the two lines, a giant X crossed the blackwall.
“Extraordinary,” Writing exclaimed. “What does it stand for?”
“A kiss,” said Bradley. “If a student writes it at the end of a sentence, it could mean the story characters are kissing.”
Writing bounced back to her desk. “Exactly,” she said. “I’ll put that punctuation mark in the next grammar book I write.”
Arithmetic’s eye narrowed. “Wait one second, Blondie,” she said. “I have dibs on that symbol. In math it means multiplication.”
“I’m sorry, but X is one of my twenty-six letters” Reading interrupted. “It’s the rarest letter of all, and I won’t let anyone else use it.”
“Forget it, Two-Eyes,” Arithmetic replied. “I’ve been using that sign since Roman times. It’s the Roman numeral ten.”
Reading’s face was red. “That symbol also means poison when put on bottles,” she hissed. “On maps it shows where treasures are buried and when it comes before mas, it becomes a favorite holiday. No, X belongs to me.”
Writing, batting her eye, spoke to the jar. “You know, Bradley,” she said. “During boring reading and arithmetic times students can write my new symbol to play Tic-Tac-Toe.”
Reading made a fist the size of teacher’s desk. “Do you want to fight about that?” she said.
“I’ll take you both on with my eye closed,” said Arithmetic.
Writing wrote an X on the ground with her toe. “OK, right here,” she said. “X marks the spot.”
The three Cyclopes stood and faced each other. Suddenly there was a flurry of hair-pulling, pushing, slugging, and scratching.
Bradley wasted no time. He reached up and pulled himself over the lip of the jar. He sprinted across the desktop and slid down the square desk leg. Dodging stomping high-heel shoes, kicking loafers, and scuffing sandals, he tore across the carpet grass. He didn’t know where he was going, but he ran and ran and ran.

Stop run-on sentences!

2006-06-06T10:45:00.000-07:00

Changes

2006-06-05T10:43:00.000-07:00

Anne came to class wearing glasses.
Bonny showed up with new braces.
Larry’s hair cut was very short.
Freckles disappeared from faces.

Last week Lori had her ears pierced.
Charlene grew an inch overnight.
As for me I refuse to change,
So tell me why my shoes feel tight.